I had an absolutely horrible dream last night. No, I am not into dream-interpretation and symbols and all that sort of thing so don’t worry. But last night’s dream illustrates so beautifully how our minds work. Or do we want to call it work when it goes into a spin and turns us into a whimpering blob of stupid. Me, not us then, if you prefer not to be negative about yourself. I don’t really mind because I am also convinced of my positive aspects. It is just the weird way life and I combine. That means that cause and effect become entangled and as I am more inclined to throw the knot away than to untangle it I am not going to untangle anything here. I am just saying: WHAT?!
It’s rather stressed out here: I am organising an Open Day for the ED Foundation in Rotterdam. Cool. But stressful because just imagine if I get all these people to put themselves on the line and nobody comes to Meet and Greet. Or: lots of Meeters and no Greeters. Is there food, drinks, is it cleaned, who will do what when and if so why not?
At the same time I have been replenishing my wardrobe. Talk about stress? Just spend lots of time undressing in front of mirrors. My taste runs to not 61-year-old fashion. My figure says otherwise. Our internet is down and my contacts with service providers proved that the meditations lessons have not as yet born much fruit. Hubby is going away for a couple of weeks.
So you see, lots going on here. Lots of multi-tasking. Not bored. It is all fine, nothing wrong with it, is there?  But obviously something got heated up in my top story.
Because at some stage I stopped guarding myself. I didn’t take myself seriously. People are inclined to say: don’t take yourself so seriously! As if one should consider oneself a sort of cosmic joke.  I can tell a joke, I can laugh at jokes and I can joke about myself. But I am not a joke. ‘I’ must be taken seriously because if I don’t do that, things go seriously wrong.  That is why it so important to know yourself, then you know what to take care of and nurture. If one has a problem, you should know it: must it be dealt with, must you ignore it, does it have to be taken away? And nurture means more than pampering: it means giving the right care. And an Eating Disorder, each and every one, needs to be nurtured in its own way. You, in your life, need to deal with your unique ED in your own unique way. As do I with mine.  And mine needs me to be on the ball. Relaxed, chill, double-tasking as opposed to multi-tasking, doing kind things in kind ways. I need to play with healthy foods, read kind books; it all sounds terribly wuss-y  but that is me. Super Wuss. And for a week I forgot all that and Super Mel ruled: man I was good! I rushed around busily, phoning and mailing and shopping and cooking and meditating (not well but very ‘efficiently’) and one by one, since Sunday, the wheels have been falling off. You know, it starts with comfort food in the shape of ‘healthy’ pancakes and slowly down the drain it goes. We all have our own little ways to head for hell.
Culminating last night in an inappropriate amount of dessert.  And then the dream. It’s funny, ok? I woke up, remembered and had to laugh. I dreamt I had short, fat, old lady legs, with the thighs hanging down past the knees and extra blobs of fat on the inside of the knees. And I had to walk through the desert with these legs in shorts…
I had to laugh and then I had to sigh. Dang! I have to remind myself who I am again: Super Wuss the Kind. Get back to single tasking, cooking nice food, ditching the dessert and ditching Super Mel. Write a blog and read a book. Work but not too hard. Meditate.

I need to look me in the eye: Super Mel is a really stupid woman who upsets herself all the time, whereas Super Wuss is chill. Cool. Kind. Excuse me while I go look for Super Wuss and gather her up and nurture her a bit, she needs to be taken seriously again.
First published on:  www.theresbeautyinrecovery.org